Memories
by Pirate Moose
Summary: Ianto Jones wakes up in hospital with no memory of how he got there. Who are the Agniton? What do they want with Jack? It’s up to Torchwood to find out and prevent any more deaths occurring… Janto pairing. Pre-COE. Rated T for the usual Torchwood antics!
1. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer:**__ Sadly, I don't own Torchwood – if I did, the events of Day One, Four and Five would NOT have happened! _

_**Set:**__ Some time between series 2 and 3, with references to series 1, Doctor Who and the Torchwood novels_

_**Pairings:**__ Jack/Ianto (obviously!) and Gwen/Rhys_

_**Author's note:**__ This is my first epic story, so any feedback would be appreciated! Also, a special thanks to __**Loopstagirl**__ and __**Veritas Lilly**__ for their beta-ing and encouragement! Enjoy!_

**MEMORIES**

_**CHAPTER 1**_

Overhead, fluorescent strip-lights lit the clinically white corridor: the odd one blinking impatiently, whilst waiting for the electrician to fetch a new bulb from his van. Jack waltzed through the unusually deserted corridors, his strides so long that Gwen had to quicken her pace in order to keep up. The smell of disinfectant clung to their noses as they continued their way through the labyrinth of passageways, the noise of their shoes squeaking on the still-wet floor and echoing all around them.

A hospital porter, in his aqua-blue scrubs and tattered Converses, briefly appeared from the supply closet, mumbling angrily as he retreated to get the mop he had only just returned.

"Oops," noted Jack, as he saw the muddy footprints that trailed behind him.

The corridors felt endless, each one identical to the previous. For all Gwen knew, they could have been walking in circles - the artificial lighting made it difficult to tell just how much time had passed. They eventually reached a set of double doors, leading to the stairwell. Jack, in his usual method, bounded up the steps two at a time; whereas Gwen, who was not as comfortable with the prospect of heights, stuck to the handrail nearest the wall, taking it slowly and steadily. With her arm in a cast, she could only hold on with one hand; a thought she tried not to let bother her. By the time Gwen had reached the third floor, Jack had completely disappeared. Only the flash of a long greatcoat whipping around the corner of the door told her he had already exited.

Slightly out of breath and clutching the stitch at her side - she knew she shouldn't have eaten that sausage roll! - Gwen hurried to meet Jack who was waiting outside the little gift shop.

"What is it with you and grapes?" she enquired, noticing the little polythene bag in his left hand.

"Red and seedless," he replied, wiggling the bag and flashing Gwen one of his winning smiles. "Ianto's favourites."

"And you would know that, how? Or do I not want to know?"

Jack glanced down at her with a familiar expression, "I'm psychic!"

"I never know if I should believe you when you say things like that," she replied.

"Well, there are a lot of things you don't know about me…"

"You can say that again," muttered Gwen under her breath, a hint of bitterness in her voice.

*****

Ianto opened his eyes. He found himself lying in an uncomfortable bed; the sheets folded with military precision, and two recently fluffed pillows supporting his head. Neatness; he liked that. A small machine beside him beeped rhythmically, each sound ripping through his head like a thousand bullets, causing the sharp, twisting pains behind his eyes to worsen.

What had happened?

He tried to rack his brain for any trace of a memory, but his mind was blurred, as though huge sections had been blotted out and replaced with a smudged vortex of grey. _Wow, _he thought as he attempted to prop himself up, _that must have been one heck of a coffee liqueur…_

After a painful struggle with his head, Ianto gave in, letting himself slide back down into his original position. He looked around him. Yes, definitely a hospital; white walls, white ceiling, the sickeningly cheerful daffodil curtains… Ianto shuddered.

Judging from the sounds of muffled footsteps and murmured voices, he wasn't alone on the ward. A few moments later, a young nurse popped her head around the curtain and seeing Ianto awake, entered with a big grin.

"Good morning, my lovely," said the nurse cheerily, "It's nice to see you awake." She laid a tray down on the cabinet beside him and fetched the clipboard from the end of the bed. Taking a black biro from the left pocket of her tunic, she flicked over the top page and, checking the time on her watch, began scribbling notes. "The Captain was getting worried about you. Been in everyday since you arrived. He'd stay longer than the visiting hours if Matron would let him."

Arrived? How long had he been here?

"What day is it?" Ianto whispered, his voice cracked and hoarse.

"It's Wednesday, love. You've been unconscious for six days. Don't worry though; the Captain will be here soon, I'm sure he'll explain everything. Heaven knows he wouldn't tell _us_ a thing!"

The nurse returned the clipboard and walked over to the beeping machine; the clicking of her heels shooting more bullets into Ianto's skull. Seeing him wince, she adjusted the buttons on the monitor and clicked the dial two places to the left, causing pale blue liquid to drip slowly from an IV bag raised above the bed.

"Hmm, this should make you more comfortable."

Ianto watched as the liquid travelled down the long tube and into the bandaged tap on his right hand. Once again he shuddered; ever since the incident with Lisa in the Hub basement, Ianto had developed a hatred for needles – just the thought of one in his arm made his skin crawl.

The nurse nodded her head towards the double doors at the end of the ward, "It appears you have visitors, Mr Jones. I'll be back in an hour to check your stats," giving him a little wink. "As for you, Captain Harkness," she said with a mischievous smile, "you'll have to be gentle with him. He's only just woken up!"

"Aren't I always," replied Jack with a cheeky grin.


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N:**_ _A big thanks to all of you who reviewed and added this story to alerts/favourites – it means a lot to me! Being as this chapter's only short, I thought I'd be kind and update now. Hope you like ;-)_ __

_**CHAPTER 2**_

"Mornin' handsome," said Jack, kissing Ianto gently on the forehead. "Am I glad to see those beautiful blue eyes! You gave us quite a scare!"

He pulled up the little wooden chair from beside the window and sat down, his hand reaching out to hold Ianto's. Gwen, not wanting to interrupt, perched herself at the foot of the bed.

"Got you a present," Jack smiled, holding out the bag of grapes "Red and seedless, your…"

"Jack," Ianto's voice quavered on the edge of hysteria, "what happened?"

He was scared, Jack could tell. He knew all too well what it was like to have chunks of memory erased. Even after all these years, he was still waiting to find the answers that he so desperately craved.

"You don't remember anything?" asked Gwen.

Ianto shook his head, and regretted it soon after. The drugs had lessened the pain, but he was still aware of the dull throbbing behind his eyes.

"The last thing I remember was… was…" he struggled to think, pausing for a while. "We went out for breakfast…a little place in the Quay… _really_ awful coffee… Weevil watching, I think."

Gwen shot a glance at Jack.

"Ianto, love," she said gently, "That was six weeks ago. A lot has happened since then."

"Christ! What level Retcon …"

"It wasn't Retcon," intercepted Jack. "You were attacked in the Hub by an Agniton Scout."

Ianto's face fell blank. "A…a what? Wouldn't I remember something like that? Shouldn't it at least ring a bell?!" His eyes flicked frantically between Jack and Gwen. As Gwen shuffled nearer towards him and gently gripped his hand, Ianto noticed a significant graze above her left eye; the raw pink skin around the edges showing that it was well on its way to healing. His eyes fell to the off-white shoulder dressing, just visible at the neckline of her t-shirt, and then to the navy blue cast on her arm.

"Did it get you too?"

"Yes," she replied hesitantly, "but, not quite in the same way."

Jack sighed. "I think it would be best to start at the beginning…"

"Please do," mumbled Ianto, once again, trying to prop himself up. "It would be a very good place to start…"


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N:** Thanks again to everyone! Here's the next chapter! Doesn't actually mention Torchwood, but it's vital for events to come. So stay tuned…_

**_CHAPTER 3_**

The sky above Cardiff was picturesque: clouds of pale vermilion interwoven amongst the diluted crimson background. A lone figure, that of Detective Inspector Maurice Beaumont, stood and looked out across Britannia Quay.

"A beautiful evening," he agreed to himself.

Maurice could often be seen in this particular spot; that is, if anyone else came here. It was why he loved it: tranquillity and isolation. Such an atmosphere could allow him to reflect on the day's events with a clear mind: seven reports of theft, four of break-ins and two of murder. The hectic life at the station was becoming too much for him in his old age; his legs were not as young as they once were, and a desk-job just didn't have the same satisfaction as going on the beat. Neither did it help that the headache, which had been lurking behind his eyes all day, was getting progressively worse. Maybe a new prescription would help...

Maurice was 64, and was looking forward to his well-earned retirement the following year. He and his wife Agnes had contemplated a little house by the sea, with a patch of garden for growing runner beans and tomatoes and a little cat called Sprout…

In 2007, Agnes had become seriously ill, the plans being put on hold as Maurice postponed his retirement to pay the medical expenses. The following year, Agnes passed away and Maurice, being at a loss of what to do, delved into his books, barely coming up for air. He prided himself in his vast historical knowledge; a subject that he loved and had always been good at. Perhaps, when he finally retired, he could become a tour guide at Cardiff castle; Agnes would have liked that.

"Agnes…" He dashed a tear from his eye, and continued his slow walk along the pavement, just as the sun was preparing to fall behind the horizon. Unbeknown to Maurice, who had lost himself in thought, a shadowed shape had just come into vision at the end of the road, gliding silently towards the hobbling old man. It advanced, nearer and nearer, until…

"Oh!" yelped Maurice, clutching his chest. He took deep, heavy breaths. "I'm sorry, I didn't see you there! No one ever comes down here, see; you gave me a fright!" He looked up and paused. "Sir?"

There was no reply. Instead, a long, arm-like shape elongated and levelled itself against the crown of Maurice's head. The form, vaguely humanoid in shape, was neither solid nor translucent and appeared to flicker slightly with each movement.

_Oh God_, he thought, the pace of his breath quickening. "Y… you can have my wallet! I haven't anything else of value!" He was visibly shaking now.

_Material possessions mean nothing to us_. A second shape now emerged from behind the first, its arm raised also. However, the voice did not appear to come from either; it was as though the voice existed in Maurice's head alone.

"What… what do you want?"

Your mind…

"My what…?!" he choked.

_You possess great knowledge of this planet. This we require. Our bodies are weak and must restore to full capacity. You will remain stationary…_

Maurice looked on in horror as four tendrils uncoiled from the arm and plunged into the sides of his head, the second form mirroring this action.

He could neither run nor scream; his body was no longer his own. Excruciating pain ripped across his head, whilst white lights filtered through his vision.

All feeling had gone now; his physical body was still there, although nothing remained of Maurice Beaumont. Having lost everything, he let the darkness wash over him, and allowed himself to be dragged under into the black abyss.

Death had arrived.


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N:** Here's the next chapter for you, and it includes a spot of Janto fluff! Enjoy!_

**_CHAPTER 4_**

"Right, boys," said Gwen, digging around her bag for the car keys. "I'm off!" Ianto got up from his desk and walked over to the work station, picking up the black, leather jacket from the back of the chair and holding it up for Gwen to slip into.

"Ah, thanks love. Good manners, that's what I like." She glanced over her shoulder at Jack, "You could learn a thing or two from him, you know!"

"Ha ha. I was around when they _invented_ old-fashioned manners. Oh the memories!" He smiled to himself impishly, and shook his head. "Still, let's not dwell in the past; where you off to then?"

"Cinema," she replied, this time trying to find her mobile. "Me and Rhys have a double date with Ben and Jerry."

"Ooo, you'll have to introduce me sometime!" Jack said, obviously not seeing the joke. Ianto just rolled his eyes.

"Well, hope you have a lovely time. I, on the other hand, have some cleaning to do," he said, looking around at the mess in the Hub. "I feel I've been neglecting the housework of late."

"Well, at least you'll have me for company!" grinned Jack.

"Not much cleaning will get done then…" smiled Gwen, heading for the cog-wheeled door; her heels clicking against the metal grate flooring. "I'm warning you now though," she called back, "don't you dare call me if there's a problem – this is the first evening I've had free for weeks and I intend to enjoy it!"

"Having seen what you can do when you're angry, I wouldn't dream of it!" said Ianto, his expression deadly serious. "I value my life too much."

"Glad I make a lasting impression!" she responded. "Bye then!" And within moments, she was through the door and out of sight.

Jack and Ianto were now alone. Well, alone if you didn't include the giant Pteranodon circling above their heads.

"So…"

"So..." Ianto agreed. They looked at each other in contemplation.

The Hub was filled with the hum of silence, bar the gentle trickling of water from the dominating central feature – not good for a weak bladder, Owen had decided. Jack was sitting on the sofa with his feet up on the coffee table – something that was always met with irritated protests from Ianto. He was yet to cotton on to the fact that Jack now just did it to annoy him; he thought Ianto looked his cutest when he frowned. The mental image made the Captain grin from ear to ear.

From across the Hub, Ianto was about to protest on seeing Jack's muddy boots, when the computer behind him beeped loudly. He span around in surprise, causing a stack of meticulously organised files to flutter onto the floor. He cursed loudly and crouched down to gather the dispersed sheets. Jack bounded over to the flashing screen as Ianto stood up, dumping the paper as far away from the edge of the desk as possible. He'd sort them out later.

"Ripple of rift activity – no, make that a _surge_ of rift activity coming from the Quay area. Wow! We haven't had readings like this in a while. You'd better call Gwen back. We can pick her up on the way." Jack turned to face his colleague. "Oh, she's not going to be happy…" he said, handing Ianto the phone.

"Me?! You can do it!" He shoved the phone back into Jack's hands. "Unlike you, I _can _be killed!" He grabbed the keys off the desk and hurriedly made for the exit before Jack could protest. Besides, he hated Jack's driving. He wanted to take the wheel for a change.

*****

"Good evening! Glad you could make it" said Rhys sarcastically, chin cupped in hand and expression bored.

"Sorry, love," replied Gwen, giving him a kiss on the forehead. "I had to finish up something at…"

"Work. I know." He should be used to this by now; the lateness, last minute changes, the excuses… Heaven forbid he should have Gwen to himself for one night. Still, at least she was here in one piece. He'd often had dreams – nightmares – about seeing Gwen savaged by alien monsters, whilst the immortal Captain Jack Harkness just stood and watched…

"So, what film are we seeing?" Gwen chirped in her usual break-the-silence tone.

"I was thinking the new _Terminator_."

"A girly one, then?" She grinned. "Only kidding - sounds great. The big question is though," she said, pulling Rhys up from his seat. "Cookie dough or Chocolate Brownie?"

They walked in hand in hand, and found their seats – not too far forward, not too far back; just how Rhys liked it. The lights of the auditorium dimmed as the cinema's ancient machinery spluttered into life. Gwen leant closer to Rhys and nestled her head against his.

"This is nice," she whispered.

"We should do this more often," he replied, wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

Just as the opening credits rolled into life, a conspicuous buzzing sounded from Gwen's handbag. The man in the row behind tutted loudly as she hastily scrabbled around her feet to find her phone, dropping the box of popcorn in the process. She flicked open the clam shell mobile and frowned at the words lit up on the glowing display.

"_Bloody Torchwood!_"


	5. Chapter 5

**_CHAPTER 5_**

"You sure took your time," said Gwen coldly, climbing into the SUV and slamming the door behind her. "I've been freezing my arse off here for twenty minutes waiting for you to show up!"

"Well we would have been here quicker if Mr I'm-a-law-abiding-citizen-so-I-must-obey-the-speed-limit, wasn't driving!"

"The limit is in place for a reason, Jack."

"Yeah, but stopping for the passing _ducks_?!" he said, voice raised in a tone of complete disbelief. He sighed, "Get out and swap places, it's my turn to drive!" Ianto did as he was told.

"Can we just go, please?" moaned Gwen, interrupting their domestic. She was cold, wet, bedraggled and in a _very_ bad mood.

"Did you save us any popcorn?" asked Jack offhandedly. Ianto shot him a disconcerting look – did that man _have_ a death wish?! Gwen glared at him, her face half masked by the shadows.

"Sorry," he apologised quickly, feeling a slight pang of guilt. He turned his attention to the road.

The journey passed mostly in silence, intercepted only by the GPS instructions, relayed through Gwen's voice: "Turn left. No! Your other left! Take a sharp right…here."

The SUV swung around the corner, skidding and hissing on the wet tarmac. Ianto could have sworn they were only driving on two wheels; his knuckles whitened as he gripped the sides of his seat. Jack saw his body tensing and rolled his eyes, "Com'on, where's your sense of fun?"

"I must have left it at home with my sense of humour," he deadpanned.

This area of the Quay was dark and deserted; it was a prime hangout for Weevils, particularly at this time of night. Ianto, not wanting to take the risk, reached over and pulled out the emergency Weevil-busting kit from the glove compartment, just in case. They had caught one a few weeks ago, lurking around a disused warehouse a mile or so up the road. Jack had taken Gwen and Ianto to the café for breakfast, only because it had proven to be a useful weevil-watching lookout in the past. Despite returning to the Hub with their intended catch, Jack soon regretted his little act of kindness after Ianto complained about the poor quality of the coffee for the remainder of the day. Jack made a mental note never to take Ianto to Starbucks…

The rain continued to splatter against the windscreen, the wipers struggling to match the pace. It was getting increasing difficult for Jack to see the road. He kept craning his head but the combination of rain and darkness did not bode well.

"STOP!" yelled Gwen. Jack slammed the brakes and the SUV jerked forward violently.

"WHAT?!" he cried, hands gripped on the steering wheel and his knuckles white. Ianto rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes wide in fear and heartbeat racing. This was another reason why he hated Jack's driving; even after all these years, the emergency break had yet to be perfected.

"This is it! The rift monitor says that whatever-it-was is just ahead."

"Jeez!" Jack let out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. He may not _look_ a day over forty, but his heart was not as young as his face; he needed to cut down on the sudden scares!

"Look! Over there!" Ianto pointed. Jack and Gwen followed the direction of his outstretched finger to see something laying a few metres in front of them in the middle of the road. It looked distinctly human.

"Okay, ready guys and gals?" he asked, unclipping his seatbelt and reaching down for his faithful Webley. He clicked it into place and braced himself to open the door; Gwen followed his lead. Ianto, on the other hand, sat clutching the anti-Weevil spray.

On the count of three, they exited the SUV into the hammering rain. Ianto, having the more appropriate item, approached the shape first. Yes, definitely human. Jack and Gwen were closely behind in hot pursuit, arms and guns raised at eye level.

"Oh no…" whispered Gwen as she joined her colleague, dropping the gun and raising a hand to her mouth.

The body was lying in a puddled cocktail of blood and rainwater. It was an older man, mid-sixties perhaps, his silver hair plastered down and suit drenched. The only immediate signs of physical trauma were a series of holes drilled into the crown of his head, deep enough to see the brain matter surrounded in congealing blood. His eyes were open wide, the horror of his final moments permanently etched in his expression.

"Oh god. Maurice…" Gwen's voice cracked slightly as a lump caught in her throat.

"You know him?"

"Yeah," she replied, "from my days on the force."

Ianto pulled the small Bekaran scanner and another handheld gadget from his left jacket pocket. He knelt beside the body and ran the two devices up and down, shaking his head at the returning data. He showed the screens to Jack.

"Poor man," said Ianto, his tone genuinely remorseful. "I saw him quite a lot at the library; he buried himself in reading after his wife died. Agnes, I think her name was…"

"The _library_?"

"I have got a life outside of work, you know."

"Yeah, but really? The _library_?" Jack repeated, the corners of his mouth twitching from the urge to smile.

Gwen stood there silently, biting her bottom lip to stop the trembling as tears started to form in her eyes. Maurice was such a nice man - he'd been the one to look after her on the first day at the station; shown her the ins and outs of policing. She would often bring him his afternoon cup of tea, and they would sit together, chatting and putting the world to rights. DI Beaumont had taught her everything she knows. The tears rolled down her cheeks and became interspersed amongst the icy-cold rain droplets.

"I'm so sorry." A strong hand gently gripped her right shoulder.

Gwen turned to face the speaker, their face blurred. "He didn't deserve it, Jack. He didn't deserve it…" He pulled her into a close embrace, as she buried her face in his thick coat.

"Who – or what – do you think this was, Jack?" asked Ianto, skimming over the scanned data again.

"The readings don't seem familiar, but judging from the unusual wounds to the head, I have a suspicion it could be a race known as the _Agniton_. We can't know for sure though until we run some tests on the body; however right now, this seems our best bet and most likely answer." He held Gwen's forearms and gently pushed her back until her eyes met with his. "I'm taking you off the case, Gwen. You're obviously too emotionally attached…"

"No," she replied sharply, the tears leaving trails of mascara on her cheeks. "I have to help, Jack. I _need_ to know what did this." She turned towards the corpse, "I owe the DI that much."

The Captain sighed and nodded reluctantly. He knew she was strong (and as stubborn as hell); that was why he had recruited her. There was something special in Gwen Cooper, although she hadn't realised it yet. Yes, she made mistakes, but then again, who doesn't? Jack could not only trust her with his life – god, how many times had he done _that_ already?! – but he could also trust her judgement.

"Okay," he breathed slowly, mentally planning the next course of action. "We'll need to take the body back to the Hub for testing and come up with a cover story for his family. Gwen," he turned to face her, "I'll drop you home. We can _rendezvous_ in the morning to talk this over." She nodded glumly and walked back towards the SUV, whispering a last "Thank you" and "Goodbye" to her deceased friend. The blue strip lights of the vehicle continued to pound vibrantly, their reflections pulsing in the puddles spotted across the uneven road. Jack watched as Gwen tugged her jacket tighter around her body and ran a shaking hand through her dripping, raven hair. He sighed mournfully and proceeded to help Ianto with the corpse, the blood of whom had now been washed away by the heavy precipitation.

-----

_**A/N:**__ Just to make it clear, I don't mean to imply a Jack/Gwen relationship – it's merely a good friend/emotional support thing. Thanks for reading!_


	6. Chapter 6

_**A/N:** The next chapter's up now! Thanks for all the positive feedback! x_

**_CHAPTER 6_**

"Aha!" cried Jack triumphantly, scrolling down the page and jabbing his finger on the printed date. "The last recorded sighting of the Agniton was… in 1983. And yes, kids," he added, "I was sporting a mullet…"

Gwen let out a snorted snigger, a little louder than anticipated, whilst Ianto sat back in stunned silence, a genuine look of horror on his face.

Jack, oblivious to the reaction, continued: "Well, seems like they wanted to make themselves known… a supermarket sweep resulting in twelve deaths, and a further five victims left in a permanent catatonic state."

Ianto let out a whistle, "Dale Winton wouldn't have liked that!"

Gwen raised a questioning eyebrow. "I won't ask…"

"Have you never watched daytime TV?"

"Well, it's all antiques and housing nowadays…"

"Yeah, but everyone's seen _Supermarket Sweep_…"

"People! Let's get back to the task in hand!"

"Sorry…" they both mumbled. Jack took another swig of coffee, and was about to replace the mug when he saw a rather large coffee-ring strain on the corner of the archive document. The liquid had started to seep through the thin paper, spreading across the printed information and causing the ink to run.

"Shoot!"

"I'll go and make another copy before we lose all the information," hastened Ianto, seeing Jack's face redden. "I'm not sure we'll be able to read it otherwise," he added, quickly taking the sodden sheet and disappearing from the room.

With a sigh, Jack slumped forward until his forehead lay against the cool surface of the boardroom table. His temper that morning had been as unpredictable as the English weather: perfectly fine and dandy one minute, and raging and thunderous the next. Gwen and Ianto both had experience of being on the receiving end of one of Jack's mood swings, but today was something else all together. Whatever was going on inside his head, Gwen didn't like it. She had had a serious headache since the events last night – perhaps Jack had one too?

There was silence until Ianto returned five minutes later, clutching a freshly printed sheet of paper and, laying it down on the pile to Jack's left, quickly returned to his seat. The Captain sat up again, "Thanks."

"The Agniton, Jack," enquired Gwen. "What are they?"

"Originally, they came through a temporal shift in the Rift. Nothing major. Just a little _blip _and – whoosh! Here they were. As I've told you all before, Earth humans are a unique species, you'll find no other across the galaxy. Well, all five galaxies in fact; but that's another story…"

"So, what do they _want_, exactly?" asked Ianto. "They won't have come all the way from… from… _where_ are they from?"

"Agniton."

"Oh, how original. Well, they won't have come all the way from Agniton to admire the sheep in the Beacons!"

Jack sighed, "The Agniton scour the galaxies and ransack planets for their information: resources, history, life-forms etcetera, etcetera. They use their tentacley fingers –" here, he demonstrated with actions "– to extract this information from their unlucky victims; whilst feeding off the nerve impulses of the brain."

"Eugh!" exclaimed Gwen and Ianto in unison.

"That's not the half of it," he continued. "Once this information's gone, that's it: it's gone. Forever. Just an empty jar on the memory shelf, and no way of re-stocking. The catatonic shoppers I mentioned before? Well, they had everything taken: every thought, memory and scrap of imagination. The Agniton just left them there. Empty shells."

"So that's," Gwen swallowed, "that's what happened to Maurice?" A silent nod from Jack told her all she needed to know. "Bastards…" she whispered.

There was a long awkward silence, except for the soft, persistent humming of the air conditioning set above the table.

"Do you think this will happen again?" asked Ianto, breaking the silence. "I thought Tosh set up the sensors to detect _any_ sign of movement in the Rift; theoretically, their blip should have been picked up ages ago."

"Ah, theoretically is a good word, _theoretically_. But, Ianto, you should know by now. With Torchwood, life goes _beyond _theories and into the realm of the darn right weird and distorted!"

"You can say that again," murmured Gwen.

"Basically, the signals radiating from earth's satellites have drawn the Agniton in, literally handing them a menu on a plate. For a new generation of the species, a unique race such as Earth-humans would be significantly – and temptingly – different to their usual palate. We only detected them when they started to feed."

"So, it's like they'd only ever eaten chicken, but now they have the chance to try something exotic – like, I don't know, a crocodile or a kangaroo…"

"Erm, yyyes, something like that." Jack's right eyebrow was raised high. "I do worry about you sometimes, Ianto, I really do…"

Ianto shuffled in his seat as the colour gradually rose to his cheeks. Gwen smiled faintly, the cruel fate of her former college still at the front of her mind.

"But how do we stop them?" she asked.

"Ah, well, that I don't know. There are no records in the archive that mention anything specific, although I _do_ know that a Torchwood operative was killed."

"Oh my god!"

"They must have an Achilles' heel, surely?"

"I wish I knew, but I wasn't here last time they decided to put in a visit. I was on a mission to Scotland to visit Archie – business about the Loch Ness Monster, if my memory serves correctly."

"So that's it then?" said Gwen. "We have a number of hungry brain-sucking aliens loose in Wales, with no way of stopping them?"

"In a word: yes. Although technically they don't actually _suck_ the brains …"

"Not helping, Ianto!" intercepted Jack angrily. "It's more than likely that the Agniton who attacked Maurice was a Scout, sent here to sample what's on offer before reporting back to higher command. That means there may only be two or three of them – we need to stop them now before they reach desserts and their reviews are published for the rest of their planet to see. Right then, team!" he said, rubbing his hands together. "Gwen, get your police hat on. Give Andy a ring, and see what information you can get from their records: similar cases, suspicious sightings, yada yada. You know the drill."

"I'm on it."

"Ianto!"

"Yes, sir?"

"Get me another coffee." He paused. "I've got a bugger of a headache…"

"Oh," he hesitated, not expecting the given reply. "Right you are, sir," and with that, he rose from his seat and left the boardroom, glancing back to see Jack with his head in his hands. He continued through the tunnel.

"Oh, and Ianto," Jack raised his head as he called after him, "could you drop Archie a line? We haven't heard from him in a while, and with that man, no news isn't necessarily good news."

"Will do," he replied with a nod.

"And Ianto?" The young man rolled his eyes as he turned around. "What have I told you about calling me 'sir'…?"


	7. Chapter 7

_**A/N:**__ Thanks to TheWeddingFairy for spotting Loch Ness Monster – I've edited it now ;-) x_

_**CHAPTER 7 **_

Wendy Bowman looked out of the window at the drumming rain and sighed. She had only been in the job for two weeks, and it was already beginning to take its toll: the paperwork, the meetings, the long hours. It was hardly _The Apprentice_ but at least it paid the bills. With a husband and four kids at home, she needed all the money she could get, especially if they were going to afford that holiday to Florida…

She looked around her office: a coffin-sized room, with a small desk and a lacklustre colour palette that would make Picasso turn in his grave. She had brought in the chair from home.

Wendy looked up at the framed photo on the wall and smiled. Her family was the only reason she could drag herself into this hellhole each day. She was willing to do anything to provide them with a good life, even if it meant sacrificing a little bit of happiness on her part. This was the wrong job for her skill and intelligence; she knew that. Wendy had a great scientific mind; however there had been no related jobs available in the area. She leaned back in her chair and rubbed her temples. She was not usually prone to migraines, but today she had a killer of a headache – it had only come on in the past couple of hours or so, but it had ambushed with a vengeance.

Opening her handbag, she rummaged around for the packet of aspirin and popped out two tablets, swallowing them quickly with her vending-machine tea. Wendy sighed once more, and turned back to the mound of paper that had been accumulating in her tray.

Unexpectedly, the door of the office creaked open. She looked up and waited for someone to poke their head around the corner (people didn't seem to knock in this place), but alas, no one did. _Hmm,_ she thought, _I must get that door seen to…_ She reached over and picked up the first sheet on the pile: a tax return form. Lovely.

She set it down in front of her and, before she had the chance to sign on the dotted line, a pressing shadow was cast upon the desk.

"What the…?" She looked up, her eyebrows knitted in confusion. Before her loomed a dark figure, it had no distinctive features but was definitely human in form. Similar to those ghosts that appeared a few years back – something to do with Canary Wharf, wasn't it? The thing extended an arm that levelled itself against the crown of Wendy's head. It remained very still, but seemed to flicker occasionally. With each one, the pulsing of her headache increased in volume and scale. If this was one of Barry's jokes, then it wasn't very funny.

"Look, I haven't got time for silly pranks! If you don't mind, I need to get this finished…" She winced; her head was now thumping unbearably.

_Silence human. We require your mind. You will comply._ Four tendrils uncoiled from the extended arm and snaked towards her. Wendy screamed piercingly, but was promptly silenced as the tendrils plunged into her brain; the pain excruciating as the vines twisted and turned inside.

As all sensation gradually died away, the blackness closed in. She could feel nothing; not the frantic beating of her heart, or the warmness of the blood that trickled between her eyes and onto her tear-stained cheeks. She tried to fight it but the darkness was overwhelming. Giving in, she let it cloak and strangle her in its sinister shadows.

Wendy Bowman was no more.


	8. Chapter 8

_**CHAPTER 8**_

_Jack…_

The Captain looked up, wincing at the pain gathering behind his eyes. He was expecting to see Ianto, standing beside him with a mug of fresh, steaming coffee. Instead, there was no one. He sat completely alone in the boardroom – but the voice…?

_Jack_, it repeated. _For so long we have lived for this moment. The capacity to see into the mind of one who has travelled across time. You are a unique being, Jack. So many thoughts. So many memories. So many secrets… _

"What are you?! More to the point: w_here _are you?"

_As you correctly assumed – we are the Agniton. Though our abilities have evolved since our last visit to earth. It is no longer compulsory to take the thoughts of the human, only the impulses. Our ancestors shared with us the stories of those they fed on. One was of particular interest. We know all about Torchwood, Jack, and all about _you_…_

"So you now take the memories for an added kick?! I've seen and heard stuff in my time, but what _you_ do? That's just twisted!" He raised a trembling hand to his head. Cold sweat was beginning to bead on his forehead. That in itself was weird – Jack didn't usually sweat…

"Jack?"

_We know what you have witnessed, Jack. We can see it in your mind. So troubled and lonely. Never aging. Watching those you love, grow old and perish._

"What do you know of love?!" he said through gritted teeth, anger fostering in his voice. "Your method of dining isn't exactly compassionate!"

"Jack?!"

_We know a lot more than you think. You are not of this planet, Jack. Not that that it is your true identity. We may consider a detour on our passage home. Yes, a few more people are obligatory to help us restore strength, but to feed from one as unusual as you…well, it is an opportunity not to be dismissed… _

How many more would have to suffer? "I SWEAR - IF YOU DON'T LEAVE NOW, YOU WILL _SERIOUSLY_ REGRET EVER SETTING FOOT ON THIS PLANET!" His head was spinning now, every word becoming lost in the tornado streaking through his mind. The Torchwood operative all those years ago, they killed her and took her thoughts. The Agniton knew _everything_ about Torchwood...

Ianto, who had been standing at the foot of the table for the past five minutes, looked hurt and taken aback by Jack's shouting, fear visible in his eyes. He had been on the back end of one of Jack's bad moods before (having said that, he'd been on the back end of Jack full stop) and so, not wanting to risk it, he placed the mug on an aluminium coaster in front of his boss and cautiously retreated.

Jack's eyes snapped open; his breathing was heavy, yet fast. His piercing blue eyes darted around the room and his eyesight blurred with the racing of his pulse. God, what was wrong with him? Then Jack remembered the conversation he had had a few moments previously.

His threat had been useless. The Agniton knew where Jack was, and they were coming for him…


	9. Chapter 9

_**A/N:** Sorry, I didn't realise it was so long since I updated! Thanks to everyone who's reviewed! _

_**CHAPTER 9**_

"Uh huh… yep… ah, right… ok. Thanks Andy, I'll keep you posted." Gwen put the phone down and let out a long, mournful whistle.

"Is everything all right?" Ianto asked; his head popping into view from behind Gwen's computer monitor.

"Andy said he'd break the news to Maurice's family. He's got, _had_, two sons, Ian and Kevin. They were the only names on the contact list." She was glad, as selfish as it sounded, that it was Andy telling the family and not her; no matter how many times you did it, the task was not made any easier. "Also, the station's received hysteric reports over a death in Pontypridd. Apparently the victim has several 'bullet holes' in the head, yet no gun shots were heard. Thought it might be a case for us."

"That would make sense then." Ianto muttered into the printout clutched in his right hand.

"What would?"

He handed her the sheet. "I was just coming over to tell you that whilst we were in the boardroom, a massive Rift spike occurred in the Pontypridd area. Exactly the same as the one in the Bay last night."

"Righty-ho. Let's grab the coordinates and take a road trip." She motioned her head back towards the boardroom. "I think we'll leave Jack and his weird mood here – as if I haven't got a bad enough headache already without Mr Unpredictable behind the wheel!"

"You have one too? Hmm, maybe I've been making the coffee too strong…"

"Nope, the coffee's perfect as always, Ianto." An American accent drifted into the Hub. As usual with Jack, you could hear him coming long before you saw him. "I'm ninety-nine point nine percent sure it's the aliens. They're telepathic. I was talking with one just now."

"What?" said Gwen, brow furrowed.

"So you weren't shouting at me, then?" asked Ianto timidly, so far having avoided direct eye-contact with Jack.

"No; sorry if it seemed that way though." He looked at Ianto with apologetic eyes. "Look, I know it _sounds_ weird…"

"Hey," intercepted Gwen, "you're preaching to the converted. With this job, _everything_ looks and sounds weird!"

"Not to mention smells," quipped Ianto, suddenly spotting a conspicuous pile beside the cog-wheeled door. _Great_, he thought, _and there's me thinking that Myfanwy was housetrained_. "I gave Archie a ring, by the way. Apparently he's been dealing with an infestation of Tybariam parasites. Nasty little buggers. Still," he shrugged, "at least we know there's someone still in charge of Torchwood Glasgow."

"I guess that's comforting – in a way." Jack perched himself on the edge of Gwen's desk, careful to avoid knocking over the stacked tower of police files. Past experiences had taught him that ruining carefully organised papers was _not _a good way to make friends. "What did Andy have to say?"

Gwen recapped: "He's gonna talk to Maurice's family, and there's been a suspicious death reported. Possibly connected. Me and Ianto were gonna…" she thumbed towards the door.

"Yep, you two check that out. Try and keep it as low-profile as possible. I, meanwhile, will be taking a trip down to the archives. There's got to be _something_ in there that can help."

"Shouldn't I search the archives? I mean, I know where everything is and, no offence, you'll only disrupt my meticulous ordering of things."

"And that, dear Ianto, is why I suggest you go with Gwen. Then you won't be able to tell me off for the mess I make! Though," he flashed his colleague a mega-watt grin, "you do look cute when you're cross…" And with that, he jetted off, leaving Ianto with a frowning look of disapproval.

"He's right, y'know," chirped Gwen. "You do look quite sweet when you're angry." She laughed merrily, "Come on then, Monk. We've got a mystery to solve!"

As the SUV rolled smoothly into the office car park (Ianto was once again behind the wheel), the glaring lights of the 'Blue-and-Twos' flashed continuously, drawing much attention from the business men wanting to get back to their cars.

"So much for low-key…" said Gwen, lifting a metal tool box onto her lap.

"Al'right then. Let's get this over with," muttered Ianto, patting the bottle of Retcon Jack had given them. He had a feeling that this would turn out to be yet another long day.


	10. Chapter 10

_**A/N:** Sorry, I would have updated sooner, but document manager was playing up! Chapter 10 - enjoy : )_

_**CHAPTER 10**_

As soon as they entered the room, Ianto and Gwen knew what they would find. The victim – a woman in her late thirties – was awkwardly slumped forward in her chair, her final moments of terror concreted in her expression. Her dark blonde hair had become matted with blood and, due to her position, small fragments of brain matter peppered the desk, having escaped from the drilled holes in her forehead. Gwen closed her eyes and took deep breaths, trying to suppress the nauseousness rising in her stomach.

Judging from the slight green tinge in Gwen's cheeks, Ianto was glad that he could only see the back of the victim's head. Despite cleaning up his fair share in the past, he still found it hard to stomach the sight of blood, not to mention mass trauma.

"Okaaay," Gwen exhaled loudly, "I'm pretty certain the death is linked to Maurice's," she turned to face Ianto, pulling the Bekaran scanner from her jacket pocket. "The holes in the head give it away, somewhat." She walked cautiously over to the desk and ran the small gadget over the body, just as Ianto had done the previous night. Needing to get to the tool box, Ianto moved slowly beside Gwen; bracing himself for what he might see.

"The victim is a Wendy Bowman. Lives locally. Wife and mother of four. Only been in the job a few weeks." She sighed when she noticed the family portrait on the wall. To Torchwood, this was just another death that needed solving; yet out there, there was a family who was oblivious to the fact that their loved one had been murdered by an extra-terrestrial. God, sometimes she really hated this job.

"We'll need to take the body back to the Hub. I'll go tell the receptionist that…"

"Er, Gwen?"

"Yes, love." She turned around and concern immediately set in when she saw the look of astonishment on Ianto's face, "What's wrong?"

"The holes," he breathed, "they've gone!"

"Gone?!" Yep, the holes had definitely vanished; the crusted blood being the only indication that they were ever there at all. "Okaaay, that's just been added to the list of mysteries." She held a finger up to her ear and there was a subtle bleep as the Bluetooth leapt into action. "Jack?"

"This had better be important, Gwen. I think I've got a lead…"

"Just a quick favour; could you check Maurice's body and tell me if anything about it is different?"

"Different? Why, are you expecting a limb to have disappeared or something?"

"Not a body part as such…" She could hear the tone of breathing change as he briskly jogged to the Autopsy Room. There was a slight pause, and Gwen could imagine the Captain preparing his diagnosis.

"The body's still here," he said finally, "same as we left it… Oh, hang on." Another pause. "The holes in his crown have gone. Looks as though they were never there. That's strange."

"At least we know that the deaths are definitely connected," he heard Gwen mutter, presumably to Ianto.

"Has the same happened to your victim, then?"

"Uh huh. So, what have you found then, Sherlock?"

"Well, I've had a rummage around the archives and…"

"I hope you put everything back where you found it," warned Ianto.

"Er, yeah, of course." From the tone of the responding silence, Jack knew that his young colleague wasn't convinced. Oh, he'd tidy it up later; after all, what else does a non-sleeping man have to do? As he skim read the printed document clutched in his hands, something within him suddenly clicked. "Wait…" There was a long hesitation, and Gwen could hear the cogs turning in his brain. "That's it!"

"What's it?"

"That!" Both colleagues' brows furrowed in confusion as Jack's voice boomed into their ears once more: "Gwen. Ianto. Clean up the mess there and meet me in the boardroom in an hour. Don't do anything I wouldn't do." The Captain swiftly hung up, circling a paragraph with a black fountain pen and dashing back to his office. At least his mood had changed for the better.

"That's our Jack; brief and to the point."

"Hmm," Ianto pouted as he contemplated Gwen's comment, "I beg to differ." Gwen arched an eyebrow, but quickly decided that she really _did not_ want to know. Even though it was no secret that Jack and Ianto were at it like rabbits, it still felt weird when it was suggested openly… She shook the thoughts from her head.

Whilst Gwen busied herself with ideally tapping at the PDA, Ianto expertly put on the latex surgical gloves to prepare the body for movement. As he leant over her shoulder, he noticed a typed document beneath Wendy's cold, statuesque hand which, like everything else immediately surrounding her, was saturated with the victim's crimson blood.

"Oh," he noted, recognising the typical layout. "A tax return form. Lovely."


	11. Chapter 11

_**CHAPTER 11**_

Gwen pushed her empty coffee mug away with a dramatic flair and sat up straight in her chair. "So, what's the plan, Fred?" she quipped in a mocked American accent.

Ianto leant over the desk so that his chest rested on his folded hands. He deliberately whispered within Jack's earshot: "He still hasn't quite grasped popular culture."

"C'mon! Everyone knows _Scooby Doo_!"

"Yes, well, Jack's not _everyone_," he smiled. "Besides, considering the man in question, I think that Shaggy would be the more appropriate…"

"People! Again with the digression?!"

"Sorry," they said in unison, trying to stifle their giggling.

"For those who _are_ interested, I think I've found a way of killing the Agniton."

"Really? But I thought you said there was nothing in the archives…?"

"So did I; but you know me, I'm not one to give up easily. Whilst you two were having fun in the office…"

"A dead body's not exactly what I'd call fun, Jack."

"Ooo, I dunno, better company than some people I've have dinner with. Anywho, as I was saying, there was nothing physically stored in the archives that could help so I went through the electronic database with a fine toothcomb and – thanks to good ol' Archie – found an Agniton sighting in Scotland in 1934! After hours of scrabbling, I managed to find a small one hundred word article – drabble, you might call it – written by ex-Torchwood employee Roger McGregor." He glanced down at his colleagues, "You still with me?" They nodded silently; still trying to keep up with their boss's excited pace.

"It had facts about the casualties, deaths etcetera etcetera, but then came the interesting bit." He paused.

"Don't leave us in suspense, sir. This is hardly the time for a dramatic effect!"

"Sorry. The paragraph mentions a journal kept by a survivor of an attack. You see, the Agniton apparently have an area at the base of their necks from which all their movements are controlled. Like a cell's nucleus, if you will. They don't have a brain, per say, just this little pulsing blob." Once again, Jack demonstrated with hand gestures. "The man survived because – more by luck than judgement – he lanced it with a piece of broken pipe. Severing this control box destroyed the Agniton, causing it to shrivel and, I quote, _'dissolve into a formless cloud of static cosmic light'_."

"Very poetic."

"I thought you'd like that bit, Ianto," Jack winked.

"Right," said Gwen, a look of hard concentration in her eyes. "So we have a way to destroy the Scouts, now it's just a case of _doing_ it. Any ideas?"

"We could try refining the Rift programme. Y'know, to give more warning when an attack's likely to happen." Ianto glanced between his two colleagues. "We managed it with the creature from the Silent Planet – sort of…" he trailed off. The three team members reflected on that particular mission; Ianto had posed as a musical bate, but the plan had gone belly up when the creature put in an unplanned appearance elsewhere.

"I guess it won't hurt to try," encouraged Gwen.

"Al'right then. That can be priority number two," nodded Jack.

"And number one…?"

"Carry your guns with you at all times. _All _times! Even if you're nipping off for a quick pee or to answer a phone call, take your gun. You can never be too careful, especially as we haven't got a proper strategy plan yet." Gwen unconsciously patted the gun in her belt holster; she feared that she'd become too dependant on it of late, but Jack was right, you can never be too careful.

"C'mon then, team. Cardiff needs us!" The Captain energetically rose from his seat and his two colleagues followed. Their chatting voices bounced off the tunnel walls and filled the walkway with a positive spirit. Since the deaths of Owen and Toshiko, Jack, Gwen and Ianto had grown closer as a team; though the empty chairs were a stark reminder that, in this job, death could be lurking in every corner and would not be afraid to strike at any moment.

As they walked into the main work area, it felt as though a tidal wave of pain crashed over them. Staggering slightly as it hit them, the smiles of the three colleagues faltered as they saw two forms looming beside the water tower; the artificial lighting of the Hub giving their alien bodies a peculiar iridescent glow. Ianto, Jack and Gwen, wincing at the pain fostering in their heads and behind their eyes, stopped abruptly; their hands tightening around their pocketed weapons.

"Oh," breathed Jack. "We're gonna need a plan a lot sooner than we thought…"

---

_**A/N:** Ooo, a cliffhanger! Sorry, but it just had to be left there! ;) Thanks to everyone who's reviewed - I really appriciate it! And, in the style of Brucie Forsyth: keeeeeeeep reading! :)_

_x_


	12. Chapter 12

_**CHAPTER 12**_

"Oh god," gasped Gwen, as the two Agniton Scouts began to move towards them. "Jack, what do we _do_?!"

"Okay, I'll try and distract them, while you run. They can read minds, so try and keep your thoughts to a minimum. "

"Oh. So much for giving them the element of surprise, then." Ianto deadpanned.

"See if you can get in a position to shoot or, if the worst comes to the worst… well, let's hope we don't get to that bit." Before they dispersed, Jack kissed them briefly on the forehead, whispering: "good luck!"

Jack ran out towards the work stations, aware that his every movement was being observed. "Frankly," he yelled, "I don't like what you guys are doing on this planet, so we're gonna sort this out right here, right now!" He was heading for a pile of debris, which was waiting to be incinerated, near the spiral staircase to the Hothouse. _Please let there be some piping_, he thought frantically.

His lucky day, however, this was not.

Jack found himself suddenly flying backwards with great force and, on colliding with the tiled wall, was knocked completely breathless. Wheezing painfully, Jack managed to drag himself upright, grabbing the back of a nearby chair for support.

"Telepathy _and_ telekinesis? That's just showing off…" his sentence trailed off as the piece of piping sliced through the air, like an arrow shot from a powerful crossbow.

"Sh…argh!" He yelled, dropping his head to see the long, thin object protruding from his chest, blood beginning to seep through the cotton fibres of his shirt. Piping; oh, the irony. It had pierced straight into his heart, the pain rendering Jack immobile after collapsing to the ground. "Oh, so this is how you want to play, huh? Well, in that case, we're playing by my rules…!"

_This is not a game, Jack. We are aware of your 'gift' and certainly intend to use it to our advantage. Just imagine: one entity to provide us with an eternal feeding source…_

"So, if I'm what you want, why – " he was finding it difficult to think properly; the significant blood loss combined with the unbearable headache was playing havoc with his focus, " – why not find me first, rather than kill those other people?"

_Apart from restoring strength, what better way to get your attention, Jack? Furthermore, your exposure to the bodies has left you and your little friends more acceptable to our telepathic influence. _The Agnitons' heads titled to one side, as if in contemplation. _You have weakened physically_,_ yet the brain impulses remain intact. We have disabled you primarily, allowing us to deal with your colleagues. Once we have fed, we shall then return for you. Leaving this planet, just as you requested, Jack..._

"You lay a finger on them, and I swear…"

_Such big words, yet so little power. We have evolved beyond belief, Jack. Abilities you could only_ dream _of…_

Jack snorted in laughter, tears of pain streaking down his cheeks. "You _really_ wouldn't want to know what I dream of!"

_We will soon make that decision for ourselves…_

**********

Gwen had positioned herself behind a pile of cardboard boxes tucked away in the corner of the Hub, though she soon wished she had chosen somewhere slightly nearer. When describing the Agniton's anatomy, Jack had failed to mention that the pulsing nuclei was tiny, not to mention nigh impossible to aim at from a distance. Bugger. Crouched low to the ground, Gwen wrinkled her nose; there was an awful smell nearby and, looking over her shoulder, realised where it was coming from. _Ew_, she thought in disgust, _dinosaur crap…_

On seeing Jack impaled with the metal pipe, her own heart flipped – as did her stomach when the blood began to pour. How many times did that man have to die? They had all experienced great pain, but none so much as the Captain. He had sacrificed himself on a number of occasions in order to help others; even now, on the brink of death, he was creating a distraction for herself and Ianto to kill the alien Scouts. She couldn't muck this up; there was too much at risk. Shuffling gently, Gwen rose the Glock to eye level and rested her arm on the top of a box, trying to steady her hand for a better aim. The shuffling, however, had not been a good idea. Losing balance slightly, Gwen nudged into her barricade and, inevitably, the boxes came tumbling down.

"Damn it!" She'd blown her cover and the palpable movement had attracted unwanted attention. The Agniton were now advancing towards her, and Gwen ran. However, the blinding pain behind her eyes had started to restrict her vision, causing her to stumble and topple as she headed for shelter. She had no idea where Ianto had gone, but she could make out Jack just ahead. Gwen knew that hiding was useless – the Agniton could read minds for Christ's sake! – but she didn't know what else to do. Her instinct warned her to keep running and not look back, yet her body told her otherwise. Her head was spinning and she could no longer think clearly, so – a foolish decision she quickly realised afterwards – Gwen gave her body dominance. Breaking her concentration, her leg caught the end of the coffee table and she fell awkwardly to her knees.

"Shit!" she cried, as her gun flew far from reach. One of the Scouts drew up behind her and a sudden feeling of paralysis swept over her. Gwen no longer had control over body or mind. She could hear Jack screaming her name, but there was nothing she could do.

This was it. Her luck had run out…

-----

_**A/N: **__Just to let you know, this isn't intended as Gwen-bashing. I like the character so those hoping it is, don't get your hopes up! Thanks for reading!_


	13. Chapter 13

_**A/N:**__ The penultimate chapter! Dun dun duh! I can't believe it's nearly finished! Sorry this has taken so long to update - stupid school work is taking over again!_

_**CHAPTER 13**_

Gwen's eyes widened as several long fingers curled around her neck, the exerted pressure cutting into her throat and making it increasingly difficult to breathe. She could feel the warm blood trickling from the wounds as she desperately tried to suck in air. Jack and Ianto looked on in horror as the Agniton effortlessly hauled their struggling colleague from the ground and flung her like a discarded rag doll towards the steps of the Autopsy Room. With a sickening crunch, Gwen hit the cold concrete floor and tumbled down the stairs, landing in a crumpled heap at its base.

Seeing the blood-stained trail she had left in her wake, Jack felt as though his heart had splintered into a thousand pieces. He was reminded of that ill-fated day, the one where Tosh, shot and bleeding on the Autopsy Room floor, had died in his arms. Ianto had cleaned the room several times over, but the horrific image remained etched into the concrete – and their minds – forever more. Jack couldn't loose Gwen too…

He, however, was in no state to aid her; the metal pipe had bent on impact, hooking itself dangerously around his vital organs. The Captain winced at the intolerable pain surging through his chest, his consciousness slowly draining as the blood continued to pour from the gaping wound and stain his shirt a familiar ruby-red. Sometimes death would come instantly, but in other cases it cruelly liked to take its time. Jack felt as though it was a form of sadistic torture, a punishment for his immortality and unnatural – no, _impossible_ – existence. Admittedly, he often saw his 'talent' as a gift, but if he could trade it to save the life of another, he would not hesitate to comply.

From his hidden position, Ianto helplessly called out to Gwen, but received no response. _Please let her be all ok_, he pleaded mentally.

_The female human is of no importance. Her knowledge is of no great significance to us. Nevertheless, we may choose to feed from her in due course…_

"Don't you dare!" Ianto's head burst with pain as the voice floated in and amongst his thoughts. He tried to focus his mind and force the Agniton out, though his resistance was too weak when matched with the superior strength of the aliens' telepathy.

_Such courage you show. And such _vast_ knowledge you possess of this city, as well as to the workings of the 'Rift'. You would be an interesting source. We shall start with you, human, consequently followed by your Captain… _

Ianto turned and ran; it was no use hiding anymore. He sprinted between the work stations and towards the Autopsy Room, dodging the debris scattered across the floor and cursing loudly as his gun slipped and clattered to the floor. He couldn't stop to retrieve it; the Agniton were in hot pursuit. Flinging himself at the handrail, Ianto held on tightly as he leant forward, worried about how he would find Gwen. Bracing himself, he peered over and saw that she had not moved; but the soft rise and fall of her chest told him that she was still alive. Ianto let out a sigh of relief and glanced over at Jack, impaled and bleeding, barely holding on to consciousness. As he turned back to look for a suitable weapon, one of the Agniton Scouts materialised in front of him, whilst the other appeared from behind a few moments later.

The tendrils were uncoiled from their outstretched arms.

Ianto was cornered with nowhere to run and nowhere to hide - completely defenceless and vulnerable. Yet, his courage returned and he stood defiant. If he was going to die, then at least he would take it full on.

On seeing the change in position, Jack shakily drew the Webley from the holster on his belt; his cold, sweaty palms making it difficult to steady. He would not let those bastards hurt anyone else. The blackness was drawing in around his eyesight as a blood-curdling scream echoed from the far end of the Hub.

Ianto. _His _Ianto. Jack was full of anger and hatred; he knew that the Agniton were inflicting ineffable amounts of pain, and that there wasn't much time. He took a deep breath and focused his aim on the necks of the Scouts – it was a long shot, and if it was slightly off, Ianto would be killed instantly. Gathering strength and yelling loudly, Jack pumped three consecutive bullets into each pulsing nuclei.

He didn't see what happened next. His head lolled forward as the darkness enveloped around him; his only thoughts being of Ianto...


	14. Chapter 14

_**A/N:**__ Thanks to everyone who has followed this story – it's had over 4,000 hits, which really does mean a lot! Readers and reviews = *biggrin* _

_So, here it is, the final chapter…_

_**CHAPTER 14**_

"...when I came to, the Agniton were gone and you were just laying there." Jack's voiced cracked, "I thought I was too late. I thought I'd lost you..." Ianto leaned forward and they shared a tight embrace.

"It's all right, Jack," he smiled. "You can't get rid of me that easily." A few moments passed before they returned to their original positions; Jack continuing to grip both of Ianto's hands.

Ianto looked over at Gwen, "Are you alright, now?"

"Yeah, thanks. Broken collar bone, broken arm, bumps and bruises – nothing a bit of medication can't fix. I was more worried about you though." She looked into his deep, blue eyes. "When Jack told me what happened, I..." she paused, choking back the lump in her throat. "Are _you_ alright now?"

"I think so," he replied, though his smile dropped as a sudden thought hit him. "Oh god, I haven't… haven't got any… y'know," he gestured a shaking finger towards the crown of his head.

"Holes?" Jack swallowed, "I'm really, really sorry Ianto, but there are several large…" he stopped abruptly mid-sentence as Gwen thumped his left forearm.

"You're a cruel man, Harkness." She turned to her panic-stricken colleague, "No, Ianto love, the holes disappeared just like the other victims'."

He let out a sigh of relief. "I guess I was lucky..."

"So it would seem, Mr Jones." The three colleagues jumped as Nurse Taggart, once again, popped her head around the curtain. "I know I said that he didn't tell us anything, but all that talk of aliens! Well, I think you were better off not knowing...!" She picked up the clipboard and ran through her usual procedure.

Jack looked at her, slightly stunned. "How much of that _did_ you hear exactly?"

"Oh, about the last ten minutes or so. I was changing the bed next door."

Gwen looked at Jack and mimed: _Retcon?_ Jack nodded subtly.

"I'm afraid you'll have to leave Mr Jones alone now, Captain. It's six o'clock, and you know what Matron says about visiting hours."

"Will do," he smiled and turned to Ianto. "I'm glad you're awake," he said, kissing him gently. "We'll be back tomorrow." He and Gwen stood up.

"Thank you, Jack. For saving me."

"For you, Ianto, anything!"

With a wave, they made their way over to the double doors. Jack turned around briefly to mouth _I love you_, before completely disappearing from view.

Ianto grinned and settled back down in his bed. His headache had cleared now, and he could murder a coffee. Somehow, though, he didn't fancy one from the vending machine...

He could hear Jack's voice at the end of the ward: "Nurse Taggart?"

"Please, call me Nancy," she replied with a giggle. He could imagine Gwen rolling her eyes.

There was a pause. "Nancy, what time does your shift end? I'd like to take you out for a drink, to thank you for helping Ianto."

"Well, give me two minutes to finish up and I'll be ready! Ooo, you could tell me more about those aliens..."

"Hmm, we'll see..."

Ianto laid back and looked out of the window, watching as the sun began to set behind the horizon. He thought about the precious memories that the Agniton could have taken from him, those of Owen, Tosh, Gwen, Rhiannon and the kids, Jack...

He closed his eyes, the air conditioning feeling cool against his face.

Right now, Ianto Jones felt like the luckiest man alive.

________

_**A/N:**_ _**Well, there you have it. I hope you enjoyed it - don't forget to review if you did! For the record, I actually planned out the ending before the fateful episode of series 3 (I tend to do things back to front!), which made it all the harder to write. **_

_**So, due to the series' unforgivable ending, this story is in memory of Mr Jones, without whom Torchwood will never be the same…**_


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